


Best I Can Be

by parkeritup



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Coming Out, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier-centric, F/M, M/M, Mutual Pining, Richie Tozier-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:28:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24240580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkeritup/pseuds/parkeritup
Summary: "But, also? He's 14 years old, and everything is different? It's magnified to the billionth power, like a radioactive spider bit his ass, and not even in a sexy way. He feels so manythingsall the time, and not in the way he's supposed to. His dad would not be proud of him. Some shit about how no son of his would act the way Richie does, running around Derry like a fucking feral raccoon, high off opioids it found inside a dump near a shitty pharmacy. Actually, that was exaggerated; his father isn't that creative."Or: Richie Tozier realizes everything's changing, and he's just trying to catch up.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 5
Kudos: 19





	Best I Can Be

Richie Tozier is 14 years old, and he's never been more than he is now. For starters, he won't stop growing. He's now lanky and unproportionate; his arms are too gangly, and his knees are too knobby for his legs. But he's also taller than all his friends, so suck on that, Bill!

But, also? He's 14 years old, and everything is different? It's magnified to the billionth power, like a radioactive spider bit his ass, and not even in a sexy way. He feels so many _things_ all the time, and not in the way he's supposed to. His dad would not be proud of him. Some shit about how no son of his would act the way Richie does, running around Derry like a fucking feral raccoon, high off opioids it found inside a dump near a shitty pharmacy. Actually, that was exaggerated; his father isn't that creative. 

It starts after the last day of middle school. It was a hot as balls type of day, and Richie's having the time of his fucking life. He was biking over to Ben's house with Bill (short Bill!), and they were having a normal conversation. Normal as fuck, Richie would later reiterate. It was so normal, not normal enough for it to be one of those normal days when BOOM! Something not-so-normal happens. Just normal. Normal. (Normal!) Then Bill smiles and says, "So, I asked Katie out today. She said yes, and we're gonna go see a movie together."

Richie opens his trap to say "Aw, shit, Big Bill's gonna get some!" but then he thinks, "I'm taller than you. How did this happen?" but also? Is he really upset by this? He's been trying not to think about girls. Not because Richie was a good little schoolboy like good ol' Wentworth is, but because girls were getting boring and that TERRIFIES him. Even when that one time when Emma from science had let him feel her boobs over her sweater, nothing! _NOTHING!_ Nothing at all! His dick would've been pronounced dead in an ambulance, that's how much it didn't do shit! And that drove him insane, because what the fuck does that mean? What does that say about him? 

Okay, so, maybe it was a bit of a sore spot for Richie. He still bragged about the Amy thing though. _The highlight of the eighth grade! He bragged to Stan. ‘That’s nice, Richie, but we’re doing a test.’ ‘Yeah, but I already finished mine, it’s fine.’_ But also, he's been quiet for a solid minute, and Bill's giving him a look of concern from down below. He needed to spit something out now. 

"Uh, yeah, no doy, William!" He blurts out. "Even though you're, like, fun-sized, doesn't mean you're any less of a chick-magnet, am I right?" 

"Fuck you, man. I like my height." Bill laughs. "It's not my fault you're a pirated version of Slenderman. Also, wait, pull over, we're here. Richie, Stop!!"

As they walk in Ben's house, Richie goes on autopilot as his mind repeats Bill's words on loop. He doesn't snap out of it until Stan tries suffocating him with a pillow."Good to see your basic survival instincts are still working, Richie." Stan laughs. "C'mon, we're gonna watch a movie. Pick one for us." 

Ben's collection of movies only grows more and more every time Richie steps foot into Ben's room. When Ben first got into movies, they'd sit there in neat little piles until the clutter just kept going and going, till his room looked like one of those hoarder shops. If he piles them up on top of each other, he bets they'd be taller than Eddie. His guard's down for only a minute before it jumps upward and jams itself in his throat when he hears Bill tell the others about Katie. They ask for details, excited, but Bill only laughs sheepishly, awkwardly side-eying him. Bev pinches his cheeks, "you're all grown up now!" She cackles as Bill turns a new shade of red. 

He turns around to see how Eddie reacts, but he catches his eye instead. All the blood in Richie's body rushes to his face, and in a great feat of Looking Normal, Richie stares at his hands. There, not awkward! 

Why was he acting so weird about everything? This is normal. It says so in one of those parenting websites his mom always has open. (Also, tweens? Richie is not a tween. Tweens are gross.) It said parents should expect their tweens (again, that's _foul_ , Maggie, _fucking foul_!) to express interest in the opposite sex. Richie's been doodling tits and dicks in the corner of his worksheets since like grade school. If anything, he had a head start. So why was he failing at the application of the actual thing? 

It's clearly a normal day for everyone, but Richie's head spins like the teacups at fucking Disneyland. He peeks a look at Eddie again. He's laughing at something Mike said. Cute. 

"Snap out of it, we're watching a movie you picked out for us," Stan says, passing him some popcorn. "Also Tangled? Really?" 

"It's art!" He argues with a mouth full of popcorn.

Stan stares at the screen for a moment, mouth slightly open. The glow from the TV illuminates his face. "You're gross, but also right." 

Sometime between movies two and three, (Toy Story, and Mulan respectively), Beverly plops down next to him on the couch, swinging her arm around him. God, he adores Bev. Everything's so chill when she's around. She's his best friend, and that's all there is to it, nothing more. It's different from his relationship (or lack thereof) with other girls. He leans into her touch. "Wanna go out for a smoke, Rich?" 

Thank fuck. 

"You know me so well!" He wipes fake tears off his face. She punches his arm. She gets it. 

She hands him a cigarette as they sit on the patio. "I don't mean to intrude, Richie," Bev lets out a puff of smoke, "but I usually hear you babbling from a town over. You're a little quiet today, you good?" 

He wants to tell Bev everything. He wants to vent, but he doesn't really know what's going on either. If he slips up, it'll be over for him. The words clump to the sides of his throat, and he awkwardly coughs trying to hide it, but it just seems like he's trying not to cry, which only makes it more awkward, and all the blood in his body rushes to his face. 

If Bev notices, she doesn't mention it. She's patient and waits for him to talk. "Take your time." She holds his hand. "There's no rush." 

His brain's effectively turned off, Windows XP shutdown noise and all. Bev's words are meant to calm his nerves, and they do, but he just feels more embarrassed. Why couldn't he get choke it out? C'mon say _something!_

"I just feel like," he sighs, "like, I'm waiting for everything to go to shit any second now." 

He looks up at Bev to look for a reaction, but she just motions for him to keep going. "Didn't you say things were going good, though?"

"Yes, don't get me wrong, things are really good right now." He backtracks. "But I can't help it. It's like the second anything shitty's gonna happen, I feel like the floor's gonna fall out under me. Not even shitty, just anything new.

"Okay, so, just for the sake of trying to understand what you're saying better" She hesitantly says like she's holding a breath. "What shitty and slash or new thing 'caused this today? Did something happen?" 

Richie opens his mouth to respond but shuts it immediately after a second of thinking. Abort, mission, abort. He did not think this through, whatsoever. He can't just spit anything out, like earlier with Bill. Oh god, does he not trust Bev? No that's stupid. He loves her more than anything, but that's exactly why he can't do shit. He got lucky with having great friends that tolerate his bullshit, but this? It's overkill, to say the least. It might throw him overboard. 

So when his breath hitches, he uses it as a way out. He still covers his face so Bev can't look at him. It's embarrassing, but she can squeeze anything out of him. He can't afford that. God, he feels pathetic, since when does he lie to his friends? 

"Oh no! No, No!" Beverly wraps her arm around his shoulders. "I'm so sorry, Rich. We don't have to talk about it. I didn't mean to upset you." 

He takes her offer up, and they talk about something else. Bev tries to make him laugh, and he ends up crying because of how hard he's laughing. His stomach's in knots the whole time, though. 

  
  


Stan leaves first. _"Strict parents. I’m sorry, guys." He tells them as he ties his shoelaces on his way out the door._ Bill leaves next, then Mike. When he gets up to announce he's leaving too, Eddie grabs his wrist. Richie’s entire body goes numb like the Holy Spirit itself is entering his body. 

"I'm coming with," Eddie says, almost like he'd read his mind. "My mom doesn't like it when I bike back home alone at night." 

"Why, yes, Eddie! I will protect you from all evil, thank you for asking!" He beams. "Can it, fuckface," Eddie responds, but he smiles anyway.

If Bev smirks at him as he hugs her goodbye, he doesn't notice. He does not. (“What?” “Nothing!” “Nothing?” “Nothing, Rich. Just Thinking.” “Well, stop it.”) 

He tries to clear the area outside Ben's house with his finger gun to clear the area for Eddie, his Royal Highness, like in the movies. Eddie isn't the biggest fan of watching him hum the James Bond theme under his breath for almost a minute. He pushes him out the door. 

"You're not following protocol!" He whines. "I'm in charge! What if someone was outside, ready to kidnap you? You didn't let me say if it was clear or not?"

"Why would someone want to kidnap me? It's Derry. The most exciting thing that's happened lately is that Bill's mom planted tulips outside her house." He jokes as if they did not spend a summer chasing a clown in the sewers. He gets on his bike, almost methodically, the same way they'd write it down on a bicycle manual somewhere. Richie has to hide his snickers. 

"Haha, right." Richie laughs nervously. "They'd wanna kidnap you 'cause you're such a cutie. Who could blame them, bless their heart." 

"Fuck you, I am NOT cute, shut up!" Eddie says but snorts at what Richie says anyways. He's beginning to notice a pattern. 

They bike in relatively comfortable silence. It's a quiet night, and you can only really hear the wheels of their bikes rustling under their feet. His brain goes on autopilot till he reaches Eddie's. 

"Hey, Richie?" Eddie says as he hops off his bike, equally methodical as the first time. 

"Yeah?" 

"Why'd you leave with Bev, for like an hour?" Eddie stares back at him. 

Richie smiles like a Cheshire cat. This is interesting. "Why? You jealous, Eds?" 

"You're dodging the question!" Eddie huffs. 

"You're literally dodging the question, too, dipshit!" Richie retorts back.

Eddie opens his mouth to say something, but then Mrs. K's annoying voice comes out from the house, scaring them both. _"Eddie-bear, is that you?"_

"God?" Richie gasps, gawking at the sky. 

"Oh my God, shut the fuck up, Richie." Eddie scream-whispers. "Yeah, Mom, coming! Give me a second!" 

He turns back to Richie. "Listen, idiot. We can all tell when something's up, you know you can always talk to us, right?” 

"We?" Richie jokes pathetically. Please, God, let them not have this fucking conversation. At least not with Mrs. K within reasonable earshot. 

"I swear to fucking, God, I'm going to fucking kill you, Richie." Eddie sighs. "Fine. Just 'cause you're sad. I hate seeing you like this. You can always talk to me. Don't be stupid and bottle it up." 

_"Eddie-bear, it's getting late, please!"_

"Yes, Mom!" Eddie grimaces. He takes one Eddie-sized step (small, just like Eddie. Do you get it?) towards him and wraps his arms around Richie's shoulders, but only for a second. Thank God for that, because had it been a second longer, Eddie would've heard Richie's heart bang around his rib cage like it was protesting for it's god damn union rights.

_"Eddie!"_

"Mom, I said I'm coming!" Eddie yells back as he starts walking towards the front door. "Night, Richie." 

"Night." He says, both way too late, and too softly for Eddie to hear. He watches him walk into the house. If he really focuses, he can hear bits of their conversation inside. 

He stares at Eddie's house before heading home.

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at and/or with me on twitter @gayclownmovie !!!!!!!!!!!!!! also criticism would be nice thank s :^)  
> no proofreading the last draft we die like men
> 
> thank u 2 eddie and mily for listening 2 me scream abt this!!!!!!!!!!!!


End file.
